


First Year Boys

by ohmarqueliot



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, Eliot is angry, F/M, Margo is horny, Quentin is Awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 15:12:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16177682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmarqueliot/pseuds/ohmarqueliot
Summary: With an uncomfortable grimace and a half-roll of his eyes, he brought the plastic shot glass straight to his lips, his tongue swirling around the outside of the jello to loosen it and Margo felt a warmth spread through her that had absolutely nothing to do with the spelled alcohol that was starting to hit her. He tilted his head back to tip the jello into his mouth and she eyed him thoughtfully, wondering what else he could do with that tongue.----It's the first party of the year, and Margo finds a pretty first year to put between her legs. Unfortunately, she doesn't realise that he's the same first year Eliot had told her about earlier.





	First Year Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you get a line of dialogue in your head that demands you write a whole bunch of smut so you can share it.

It was the first party of the new school year, and Margo was distracted.

She’d been back at Brakebills for a week now, and there was an itch under her skin that she’d not quite been able to satisfy herself. She and Eliot had spent their summer break in Amsterdam – going home to their families the last thing that they’d wanted to do, especially since they’d both found more of a family in each other during the past year than they’d ever had at ‘home’. They’d returned to Brakebills a few days early to set up the cottage to their liking. There were no third years in their house this year so that put the second years in charge, which meant that she and Eliot were in charge, and she’d been determined that everyone was going to know it.

But she’d found a really hot couple in Amsterdam who’d known just how to make her toes curl, and the short dress she’d put on tonight was the same one that she’d worn when she met them. Thinking about the way he had stood behind her, pulling up her skirt so that his girlfriend could press her mouth to her naked skin, had made her really fucking horny.

At least the party was a success. Not all of their parties were open invite, but the first party of the year was always a big one, designed to show off all they could do and cement themselves as the greatest. _Like it was ever in question._ It seemed like almost everyone had come, and she couldn’t wait for the stories that she’d relish hearing about for the next few weeks.

Draining the rest of her champagne, she headed over to the bar to refill her glass, grinning when she caught Eliot’s eye on her way. He was standing on the other side of the room, talking to a handful of people that she didn’t recognise, which meant that they were probably first years. He winked at her, and she waved her fingers at him in return, wondering if one of them was the new guy that he’d told her about earlier. Eliot had gotten this far away look on his face when he’d spoken about how cute and adorably awkward he was, and how much fun he was going to have corrupting him. He’d tried to drag her along with him to give the guy a tour but she’d been dedicated to getting her jello shots right for the party. The spell had to be cast at just the right time while they were setting to ensure they would speed up the drunkenness the right amount without sending people overboard. They wanted people messy, but the _right_ kind of messy.

So far, it was working. She didn’t know what time it was but the party had been really going for a few hours and didn’t seem to be showing any hints of slowing down. Realising that she was just shy of the kind of drunk that she craved, she took one of the plastic shot glasses from the line up on the bar. She swirled her finger around the edge, loosening the jello before tipping it into her mouth, breaking it apart on her tongue to better taste the raspberry flavour before swallowing it. She grabbed another two in one hand, her champagne in the other, and started heading over to join Eliot.

“Is that a magical jello shot?”

Glancing at the guy standing at the bottom of the stairs as she was about to pass them, Margo considered throwing a sarcastic barb at him without stopping, but something about the eager look in his eyes made her pause. Leaning against the wall on the outskirts of a party could have been seen as suave and confident, but somehow he made it look the exact opposite, and she got the impression that he wasn’t the life of the party kind of guy. He’d shown up, which was a start, even if his open plaid shirt and dirty Converse left something to be desired.

“Not everything here is _magical_ ,” she said scornfully, stopping a few feet from him. He frowned, his eyes dulling with hurt and oh, he was such a sad, cute puppy that she relented, smiling at him and stepping closer. “But yes, these will fuck you up about four times as fast as normal. Here.” She held the shots out to him, letting him choose his flavour.

After a moment he reached out and took the blue one, and she rolled her eyes when he still hesitated. “They’re not poisoned.” Handing him her champagne, she twirled her finger around jello the same way that she had before and tossed it back, delighting in the way that he blinked when she popped her finger in her mouth to clean it. Drawing it out slowly, she took her glass back and gestured with it to the shot glass in his other hand. “Come on, don’t be a cock.”

With an uncomfortable grimace and a half-roll of his eyes, he brought the plastic shot glass straight to his lips, his tongue swirling around the outside of the jello to loosen it and Margo felt a warmth spread through her that had absolutely nothing to do with the spelled alcohol that was starting to hit her. He tilted his head back to tip the jello into his mouth and she eyed him thoughtfully, wondering what else he could do with that tongue.

Straightening up, he looked at her nervously, and she realised that there was absolutely nothing stopping her from finding out. Tossing back the last of her champagne, she dropped the empty shot glasses inside and pressed it into the hands of a passing someone and turned back to Quentin. Grabbing the top of his open shirt in both hands, she pulled him forward and pressed her mouth against his.

He stiffened under her touch but only for a moment. His hands touched tentatively at her arms before shifting to settle on her waist and she stepped closer, pressing her body against his and his against the wall. Guiding his lips apart with her own, she kissed him deeply, tasting blueberry on his tongue.

After a minute his hands tightened on her waist and he pulled away. His eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed. “Wait… really?”

Margo quirked her eyebrow at him. “Yes, really.” Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she pulled him down again, and was relieved when he kissed her back eagerly. She was right – he _was_ good with his tongue, and the way heat started to pool between her legs made her happy to speed things up. Breaking the kiss, she trailed her tongue along his jaw until she got to his neck and then closed her mouth over the sensitive skin there, delighting in the choked sound he made in the back of his throat and the way his fingers dug into her skin through the thin material of her dress.

“I’m, um… My name’s Quentin,” he said, his voice jumping halfway through his name when she took his earlobe between her teeth.

She held back her laughter, finding it adorable that he wanted to exchange names while they were getting hot and heavy. “Nice to meet you, Quentin,” she said in his ear. “If you can make me come I’ll give you a blowjob.” His reaction was immediate, a quick exhalation and that was enough of a response for her. Twisting out of his grip, she grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs.

Kicking her shoes off and then kicking the door closed behind her, she pulled Quentin’s head down to her, capturing his mouth again as she pushed him backwards toward her bed. He stopped suddenly and she pressed down on his shoulders until he sat on the edge of the mattress. Straddling him, she grinned against his mouth when his hands settled on her ass and pulled her closer. Her short dress didn’t stand a chance in that position, slipping up her thighs and she swallowed the sound he made when the tips of his fingers touched bare skin. Wondering how easy it would be to completely wreck him, she grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up over her head in one swift move, tossing it on the floor behind her. When his hands slid up her sides his touch was tentative at first, but he found some courage when she leaned into the touch. Pulling away from her mouth, he trailed his tongue down her neck and over her chest, hesitating a moment before closing his lips over her nipple through the thin lace of her bra.

Closing her eyes, Margo dropped her hips and arched her back, letting him have at it for a few seconds before she pushed his shirt over his shoulders. The material caught his arms behind his back and for a moment she considered leaving him like that, pushing him back onto his trapped arms and riding his face, but she’d given him a challenge and was curious to see what he’d. Freeing his arms, she pulled his t-shirt over his head, rubbing her hands over his bare shoulders for a moment before she moved off him.

She knew the sight she made, lying on her back in the middle of her bed, wearing nothing but a purple lace bra and matching thong, and the way his eyes raked over her told her that he was appreciating the view to the fullest extent. That, and the bulge in his jeans. She wondered what he’d look like with her lips wrapped around his cock, and let her knees fall open.

He just stood there staring at her for a moment, and a scathing remark about not offering twice was on her lips before his climbed onto the bed, kneeling between her legs. His warm hands settled on her knees for a moment before sliding slowly up her thighs, pushing them further apart as he did so. He was looking between her legs but then glanced up and caught her eye, his expression one of complete concentration, and she suppressed a shiver when his tongue darted out to wet his lips. She swallowed to make sure her voice was steady. “Are you going to get to it, or what?”

He looked down again when his fingers touched the edge of her underwear, and she held her breath when his thumb slipped underneath. It wasn’t his doing that she was already wet, but she definitely enjoyed the way his eyes fluttered closed when his thumb slid through her folds so smoothly. Her legs twitched when he brushed lightly against her clit. “Seriously, I’m not waiting all night,” she told him impatiently, eager to get to the main event.

Something passed over his face that she honestly couldn’t care less about, but then he was removing his hand and pulling her underwear down her legs. Once they were gone she spread them again and he settled back between them, lowering himself onto his elbows. Spreading her folds with his fingers, he hovered above her, and she was pretty damn sure that he had no idea that his breath on her made her skin tingle. “If you don’t –“

Her words cut off when she _finally_ felt his open mouth on her. She’d thought that he might be tentative and gentle after fucking around so much, but he kissed at her firmly. His mouth moved over her eagerly until her heart was racing, then he licked his way up to her clit, flattening his tongue over it for a few seconds before he flicking it with his tongue, his lips closing around it and _oh fuck_. She moaned loudly, her hand grabbing the back of his head to hold him _right there_ while her hips bucked up against him. She felt the vibrations of his groan against her skin, the pain of his fingers digging into her hips a delicious contrast to the pleasure that was slowly building inside of her.

Just when it was starting to feel too much, his mouth let go of her. Pressing her thighs apart again, he took a few deep, ragged breaths before diving back in. His lips and his tongue explored every inch of her, working over her with a thoroughness that stunned her. His technique became messy and all over the place but it felt unbelievable _,_ and she didn’t know if his drunkenness was working for or against him but it was certainly working for _her._ His arms came around her thighs, holding her hips down as he worked her over and that was fine, she just fisted her fingers in his hair and held him down instead when she felt her orgasm start to build. He wasn’t stopping, which was just fucking fantastic because his tongue was hitting exactly the right spot and she tossed her head back, moaning loudly as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her.

They were both breathing hard when he eventually pulled away, resting his cheek on the inside of her thigh as he looked up at her, and she just shook her head at him. “Fuck,” she managed, then rolled her eyes at the pleased grin he gave her. She was right – an actual puppy. “Okay,” she said, nudging him with her leg. “Take your pants off.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Do you have to be so bossy?” he mumbled, but slid back off the bed and started unbuckling his belt anyway.

“No one’s making you stay,” she pointed out, giving herself one more moment to languish in that perfect, boneless post-orgasm feeling before reluctantly forcing herself to sit up. What was his name… Quentin? He was frowning at her from the foot of her bed, but when she realised he’d shed the rest of his clothes so quickly, she barely spared a glance to his expression before her eyes dropped to his cock. He was hard, and rightfully so after the gift she’d just given him, and she so wanted to put that cock in her mouth.

Raising her eyes, she caught him licking his lips, and she wondered if it was a nervous habit or whether he was tasting her on them. Deliberately, she rolled hers across her lower lip, and caught the way he swallowed in response. When he took a small step towards her she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him down onto the bed and rolling them so that he lay on his back. Throwing one leg over him, she held herself on her hands and knees above him, well aware that the bra she still wore gave him a fantastic view from that angle. She hovered above him for a moment, letting him enjoy it before she leaned down to kiss his neck.

His hips bucked up just from that, and she hid her grin against his skin, loving how worked up he was. She kissed her way slowly down to his neck, but when he was already starting to tremble beneath her she skipped the rest of the warm up – she didn’t want this to be over before it begun. Still… settling on her knees between his legs, she let the backs of her knuckles trail across his thigh, her eyes darting between the way his cock jumped a little and his eyes screwed shut.

His jaw clenched when her hand closed around him, his breath coming out in a whine, and she watched his face carefully as she slowly stroked him. She waited until his face relaxed and he opened his eyes before she ran her thumb over the head, smearing the pre cum already gathered there, and smirking at him when his hips jerked up. “Oh… my god.” When his eyes met hers pleadingly, she bent down and took his head in her mouth, sucking at it lightly as she continued to stroke him. Holding her hand around the base of his cock, she him in deeper, moving with varying degrees of suction in a way that she hoped would drive him crazy. If the helpless sounds that he was making were any indication, it was working.

Releasing him from her mouth, she continued to jerk him off with her hand while she dropped her mouth to his balls, rewarded with a low moan when she licked between them and then took one gently into her mouth. She considered working her way lower but didn’t want to test his boundaries, not when she had a feeling that he wasn’t going to last much longer anyway. She could broach that particular bridge next time… If there was a next time, she thought to herself adamantly. This was just a bit of drunken, first night, working off some steam kind of fun, after all. Who knows what the guy would actually turn out to be like.

If he was as good with his cock as he was with his mouth, maybe she wouldn’t care. Sure, he was a little overenthusiastic, but with a little training…

She switched up her hand and her mouth, massaging his balls with her hand as she took him in deep, and she thoroughly enjoyed his gasp when she felt him hit the back of her throat. Drawing back, she swirled her tongue around his head, pausing here and there to press it against him, to increase her suction, until he was a moaning mess beneath her. She glanced up at him, hoping to wreck him by catching his eye, but the sight of his head tossed back against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body started to tremble was just as good. “Oh… _oooh, fuck,_ ” he gasped, his hand fisting in her hair and she was pretty sure he was trying to pull her away but instead she sunk lower, hollowing her cheeks around him and he gave a loud cry. “I’m, I’m gonna… _oh, shit.”_ His muscles tightened, his hips jerking upwards and she swallowed down the hot, salty release as he came.

Leaning back, Margo watched as his whole body relaxed into the bed. She gave his cock a few more slow stroked, her lips twitching when his body did, before withdrawing her hand. Quentin hummed, satisfied, and she stretched out on the bed beside him, propping her head up with her cheek on her palm. She pursed her lips, shaking her head at him fondly as his breathing started to even out. “You’re not falling asleep in my bed, are you?”

Blinking at her slowly, he rubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll go,” he murmured, rolling tiredly away from her.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his arm and tugged on it until he lay on his back again. “You can stay,” she said with a sigh, surprising herself a little. Normally she’d kick him out as soon as she was done with him and go back to the party, but she was still feeling all tingly from her own orgasm. And besides, Eliot would have everything under control, as long as he hadn’t disappeared with his own first year already.

Unhooking her bra – she wasn’t going to sleep with it on if she had to, and it’s not like he hadn’t seen the rest of her – she dropped it on the ground beside the bed and pulled the blanket up over them, twisting her fingers in a quick spell to turn the lights off. “Just don’t expect me to spoon you.”

He huffed a laugh. “Okay,” he said sleepily, and it was barely a minute later that his soft snores started to fill the room.

* * *

“Shit. _Shit._ ”

The words were barely above a whisper, but combined with the daylight streaming in through the windows, they were enough to pull Margo far enough from sleep that she couldn’t ignore it. Burying her face in her pillow, she groaned. “Why are you still here?”

“Ah, you – um, you told me to stay.”

Reluctantly rolling over onto her side and opening her eyes, she found the first year sitting up beside her, staring up at the ceiling with panicked eyes. She was having trouble remembering his name. “Yeah, because I figured your walk of pride would be quieter.”

Furrowing his brow, he looked down at her apprehensively. She didn’t miss the way his eyes darted over the skin that wasn’t covered by the blanket, but bully for him that everything interesting was covered. She shifted a little, making the blanket drop to reveal just a little more of the curve of her breast, and he swallowed so predictably. “Walk… walk of pride?” he asked after a moment, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them to look everywhere but at her.

Smirking, she reached up to pat his cheek. “Honey, no one who leaves this bed feels anything close to shame.”

She’d hoped to calm him down a little, but he seemed to only stiffen further. “I don’t normally do this,” he admitted, as though that wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

“Welcome to Brakebills,” she said with a shrug. “Where you can do whatever you want to do, and be whoever you want to be. Except for someone who is still in this bed, because I want to go back to sleep and I get the feeling that your mouth doesn’t stop.” Eyeing him consideringly, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, trailing her finger slowly down his bare chest. “Unless you want to put it to better use again…”

The blush that rose in his cheeks was just too adorable. He opened his mouth to speak but then froze when there was a loud knocking on the door. “Oh Margo,” Eliot called in a sing-song voice, drawing out her name. The door handle rattled fought against the lock, and the first year’s eyes widened comically. “Are you decent? Please tell me you’re not decent.” The door clicked open and he moved quicker than she’d thought anyone could move, sliding down onto his back on the bed and pulling the blanket up over his head, and Margo laughed as she rolled onto her back to see Eliot’s stepping into her room. He was already showered and dressed for the day, his hair perfectly coiffed and a light in his eyes that only grew when he zeroed in on the covered lump on the bed beside her. “Ooh, who is _this?_ ” he asked, raising his eyebrow at Margo questioningly and then smiled wickedly at her satisfied smirk.

Margo pushed herself up on her elbows as Eliot crept up to the end of the bed, reaching down and squeezing the lower end the lump, and the first year jerked his foot away from him. “No one,” he said, his voice muffled by the blanket covering his head so she couldn’t tell if it was more petulance or alarm.

Glancing up to share a grin with Eliot, she was taken aback when instead his eyes were narrowed, still watching the shape underneath the blanket beside her. “Quentin?” he said slowly.

There was a long pause. Quentin – that was his name, she remembered now – seemed frozen in place. “No?” he said eventually.

Something that she couldn’t define crossed Eliot’s face and then he reached down and grabbed the end of the blanket. She was only just able to get a good grip on it, holding it to her chest, before he tugged on it hard, but Quentin wasn’t so lucky. His naked body bared to the cool morning air, he rolled onto his side, bringing his legs up to try and make himself smaller.

Not having a flying fuck of a clue what was going on, Margo looked back up to Eliot and was surprised to find him staring at her with a pained expression on his face. “You did _not_ fuck my first year, Margo!”

 _What? No._ Quentin scrambled to sit up, grabbing the end of the blanket and pulling it over his lap to cover himself again, decidedly not looking at Eliot. Sitting up straight herself and still holding the blanket to her chest, she exchanged a look with Quentin, who looked just as confused as she was. He turned back to Eliot, his face reddening again. “Your…? But we only met yesterday.”

No. She didn’t believe it. She desperately thought back to when he was telling her about the first year that he’d escorted to the entrance exam, trying to remember whether he’d told her his name. It definitely couldn’t be Quentin. Scoffing loudly, she turned back to Eliot and stuck her thumb out in Quentin’s direction. “He is _not_ your first year,” she said adamantly.

Crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his chin, Eliot pressed his lips together into what was definitely not a smile and raised his eyebrows, nodding at her quickly, and her mouth dropped open as dismay flooded through her. “ _This_ is your first year?” she said in disbelief.

His eyes widened a little more, and he unhooked his arm as if to gesture but then brought it back, his fingers curling into a fist in front of his face. Taking a deep breath, he dropped his hand to his hip. “I called dibs! _Dibs,_ Margo!”

Hearing more exasperation that actual anger, she let herself relax a little. They’d shared partners, sure, but they’d never stepped on each other’s toes before, and she hadn’t been sure whether he was really as upset as he looked or whether he was dramatising it for the pretty first year. Or, just because he was Eliot. She could deal with that. But first… “Oh, please,” she said, waving her hand dismissively in Quentin’s direction. “I didn’t actually fuck him, you know, just blew his…” She paused, turning to look at his covered crotch. “Mind.” Quentin clutched the blanket closer around himself, and she smiled at him sweetly. “Okay, bye bye now.”

“Um.” He looked between the two of them and then down at himself, and she realised he was probably embarrassed to be naked in the cold light of day.

“I said get lost,” she said, dropping her voice and he jumped a little. He glanced up at Eliot once more before reluctantly slipping out from under the blanket, and when it occurred to her that he was more nervous for Eliot to see him naked than her she locked that bit of information away for later. Maybe there was some saving this after all.

Covering himself with one hand, Quentin looked over the floor for his underwear, sighing heavily when he saw it on the floor not far from where Eliot stood at the foot of the bed. He edged around him awkwardly, turning as he went as he tried to hide his front and then his backside and consequently giving both of them a show of everything. Eliot’s frustration already appeared to be gone, and he watched Quentin openly. Quentin bent at the knees to pick up his underwear from the floor, then glanced at Eliot when he straightened up. Lifting an eyebrow, Eliot drew his lower lip in between his teeth, meeting his gaze evenly and Quentin flushed red, turning around so he could use two hands to pull on his boxer briefs without showing off the goods. Eliot’s eyes roved over his ass. “Mmm-hmm,” he said appreciatively, and Quentin stuttered in his movements, his foot catching in the material before he managed to get them on.

Smirking, Margo shook her head. The poor boy wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Grabbing the rest of his clothes quickly, Quentin held them to his chest and fled the room with one last, confused glance back at the two of them, and she couldn’t really blame him for wanting to get out of there. Grateful that Eliot had at least gotten a bit of a show to calm him down, she slipped out of bed and picked up her robe from where it was tossed over the chair. Putting it on and tying it loosely around her middle, she turned back to Eliot to find him frowning at her. Maybe he wasn’t so easily appeased after all. “Honestly, El, I didn’t know that he was the one you’d told me about.” Taking his hands in hers, she looked up at him earnestly before grinning. “But I don’t think I hurt your chances. Did you see the way he looked at you before he left?”

He eyed her for a moment longer before he sighed, a faint smile playing around his lips. “That was pretty satisfying,” he admitted, pulling her into his arms, and she wrapped hers around his waist, tucking her head under his chin. “But I’m not ready to forgive you yet,” he added quickly.

Stepping back, she arched her eyebrow at him. She wasn’t quite sure just how much forgiveness she needed since she genuinely hadn’t done anything on purpose, but it wasn’t worth the argument. “I’ll take you out to brunch to make up for it,” she said dryly, making sure he knew that she was only humouring him now.

Cocking his head, he considered her for a long moment before his mouth widened into a true smile, shaking off the whole hurt and angry thing way too quickly. “Ok fine, but we’re going to that place with the bottomless mimosas, and you’re going to tell me every sordid detail about last night.”

Grabbing her towel, she paused by the bedroom door, turning back to grin at him wickedly. “Oh, just wait until I tell you about this thing he does with his tongue.”


End file.
